" Corn, I assume." Mostly," she said. "Some long-fallow land in pasture although the army has taken most of the animals. We only have a few goats left..." Your husband?" With Clinton. A captain in the loyal forces." She sat up straighter. She had fine posture, good carriage as they sometimes call it."No children?" The house was very quiet.Her eyes widened. "Amica," she said loudly, "go down to the barn and work on that flax." The back door closed as she released a sob."I'm sorry," I said as she. Nope, moving on.In the second tent was the group’s swordsman. Drifting down by his face she rocked back and forth for a moment until an eyelid fluttered open. Following the instincts of her body, a tiny piece of her no bigger than a speck of dust floated into his eye. The sudden stiffening then relaxing of his body let her know he was now enthralled. A few seconds later he relaxed back into sleep as the mote drifted back to her.It was an interesting fantasy the tiny piece of her had discovered.. The geometry of the park is a bit odd in that is more of a rectangle than a square just like the much larger park called "Central" in the middle of Manhattan Island. Strangely, this park had its start as a graveyard mostly for paupers and then graduated in a full-blown operating gallows drawing crowds on special days. The language changed from Dutch to English over time and for some reason it was shunned by decent folk. Eventually, it became the familiar of outcasts and folk who did not conform. We had decided to go to one of the nicer bars in town, have dinner and sink a few cold beers. I was walking down the corridor at work, carrying a piece of paper and wishing the last 10 minutes of my work week away while trying to avoid being asked to do any more work, which is why I was carrying the paper. You see, as most people know, it is an unwritten rule that if you carry a piece of paper while you’re at work people think you’re doing something and so they don’t ask you to do anything.